


The Messy Bits

by NightRoseBud



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Smut, Well Mostly with a Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22765138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightRoseBud/pseuds/NightRoseBud
Summary: "Well, it is always important to put your best foot forward." As if to demonstrate he checks the cuffs of his jacket and straightens the lapels like they weren't straight already. "But for a life partner, I would think you would like to see those messy moments everyone has."She nodded. Would she have been with James if she saw some of his "messy" moments? Hell, maybe she had seen them and ignored them, in the name of young love. She took another bite of pizza and chased it with a sip of beer. She smiled at Walt. "What about your messy bits?"He paused and looked away.
Relationships: Barbara Lake/Walter Strickler | Stricklander
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	The Messy Bits

**Author's Note:**

> This idea struck me while writing The Festival of Nauna, so I am treating it as a prequel, although you don't need to read either to get the other.

Some days Barbara was happy being a doctor. The grateful families who thanked her for saving a loved one. Finding the source of a patient's horrible condition and taking it away as if by magic. Having a person come in because of a terrible accident and helping them get better until they could leave almost like the way they were before. It could be fulfilling and rewarding and made the long hours and missing her son worth it.

And then there were days like the one Barbara had today.

Patients who screamed at her. A man who was drug seeking and had gotten abusive when she refused to give him anything more potent than aspirin. Several car accidents that resulted in the hospital running low on blood. A nurse who gave the wrong dose of medicine, making a patient crash and Barbara had to do chest compressions for half an hour before they got him breathing again. She didn't yell at the nurse, but she made it clear she wouldn't work with her, and as much as Barbara covered for everyone else, the nurse probably would not have a job with the hospital much longer. Or at least a position where she would be responsible for another human life.

Then the cherry on top of the shit sundae? She had to cancel her date with Walt. The one that she had gotten a new dress for, at the fancy restaurant out of town that Walt raved about. He said it was fine, they would reschedule, but dammit, Barbara didn't want to reschedule. 

So when she let herself through the front door into a pitch-black house, she feels defeated and tired and so sore and covered in blood and other bodily fluids that when Barbara realized Jim is not home, she can't help but sit on the floor in the hallway outside of her bedroom and let silent tears fall down her cheeks. Was her being a doctor making Jim act like this? Never home, no note?

She stayed like that for a few minutes when her phone rang. A glance at the screen told her it was Walt. She debated taking the call. Her experience with other men told her that he was calling to break up with her. No one was this patient this long with the late hours and the canceled plans. And it would be the perfect end to a terrible day. Her boyfriend breaking up with her.

"Hey, Walt," she finally answered.

"Hullo, Darling." God, how that voice helped her to relax. It was so soothing. She would miss it. "Just seeing if you are all right."

"Well, I'm home," she replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "Jim is not."

"Hm, not good. No note?"

"No note, no text." She winced as she tried to get up. Her back was agony at this point. She made it vertical and made her way downstairs, rolling her shoulders to try to get her back to relax. "I'm starting to think I may have to do something drastic like I don't know, take a sabbatical from the hospital, or quit my job so that I can work things out with Jim."

"Don't do that, Darling," Walt said. "It should be your final step, not the first."

She sighed as she made it to the kitchen. Nothing was in the freezer for her to make. The fridge was not much help either. There were eggs, but would she be able to make anything edible? "It just doesn't make any sense Walt. He changed almost overnight. I tried to tell him to be honest with me. I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore."

"Barbara, you are doing the best you can. I can attest to the extreme moods of teenagers."

She closed the door to the fridge and pressed her forehead to the freezer. "I'm sorry Walt, I feel like almost every conversation is me complaining. I'm sorry about our date tonight."

Walt chuckled. "Well, I have a headache as well, so it is probably for the best that we both take the night off to recuperate."

Barbara felt a frown on her face. Had she mentioned having a headache? "I just... I just don't know Walt. Maybe you should date someone who is not such a fucking mess."

There was a prolonged silence on the other end of the phone. When Walt next spoke, it was in a very even tone. "Barbara, I would take your 'mess' over the mayhem I have been dealing with for most of my life."

She snorted. Like the life of a high school teacher was so crazy. She leaned against the fridge and winced at her back again. "Well, I definitely would not be the best company tonight."

"Hmmm, I disagree. Maybe I should make a house call? Make you feel better? What would the lady desire this evening?"

She smiled at his formal tone. His British accent washing over her like a balm. "Not sure. I don't know what I need more: a pizza, some beer, a massage, or an orgasm, I guess, take your pick."

There was an even longer silence on the phone, long enough for Barbara to realize what she said. Lord, Barbara hadn't meant to be that crude with him. "Walt, I'm sorry, that was too forward of m-"

"I'll be there in 45 minutes," he said, and the call was ended. Barbara stared at the screen for a few moments. Did she just say that?! Maybe breaking up with him _would_ be the best idea, so she never had to see him in person ever again and die from shame.

* * *

Barbara tried texting Walt not to bother coming over to her house, but he was either ignoring them or couldn't answer. So, she took a shower while she waited. The hot water did wonders for her aching muscles. As the water hit her back, she started to think about her slip of the tongue. They had kissed, yes, made out a few times, yes, and Walt was so affectionate that Barbara was starting to think he was touch starved. But sex? Walt always seemed to shy away from taking the next step. Barbara had first thought it was some gentleman's code he was following, but maybe he didn't see her in that light? Perhaps he was asexual who just liked to kiss? He was perfect in most other aspects, could she be happy in a sex-less relationship? _Should_ she settle for that? She sighed. They were going to have to have a serious conversation about it soon.

When she was done, the bathroom was so thick with steam that she could barely see her hand in front of her face. Her back was still hurting, but at least she could turn her head from side to side, and the headache was mostly gone. She dressed for comfort in loose sweats and a tank top, and she was still drying her hair with a towel when she heard the doorbell ring (42 minutes after her call with Walt, but who was counting?).

She went to the door and opened it. Walt was standing there with one hand behind his back and the other holding a pizza box at shoulder-level. He was looking at the box when he heard the door open, so he was not looking at her when he started speaking. "One pizza, as th-" he stopped short when he finally looked at her, jaw dropped, and mouth still open. She suddenly felt awkward and ran her fingers through damp hair. She realized that this was the first time he had seen her with her hair down. "What? Is something wrong?"

He had a look of awe on his face. He shook his head and recovered. "No, nothing wrong. Just blinded by the beauty of Cleito," he said. Before she could ask what the hell he meant, he thrust the pizza towards her. "One pizza, as the lady ordered," he said. She laughed and accepted the box. Both hands disappeared behind his back, and when one appeared again, it had a six-pack of her favorite beer. "Beer, as the lady ordered."

His second hand finally materialized with a bouquet of purple flowers. "And flowers not ordered, but they were for our date tonight, so here they are."

With the horrible day Barbara had had, the fact that Walt had shown up at all overwhelmed her. It was just so sweet and thoughtful. "Walt, you didn't have to come," she told him as he stepped through the door and kissed her. She looked at the pizza box and his full hands and then raised an eyebrow at him. "How did you ring the doorbell?" she asked, trying to sound stern but not succeeding. 

"Magic, my Darling," he said in a sing-song voice, sailing past her to the kitchen.

"You kicked the doorbell, didn't you?" she asked, closing the door and following him.

"I kicked the doorbell," he confessed, putting down the six-pack and trading her the flowers for the pizza box. As he got plates, she found a vase and put the flowers in water. She smelled them. "What are these?"

"Hyacinths," he replied. 

"Do they mean anything?" she asked. He always got flowers that had a meaning. He paused and glanced in her direction. "Forgiveness," he revealed.

"Saying you forgive me for being a mess?" she asked, tone light. Walt reached for the collar of his sweater and cleared his throat. "Nothing like that," he simply said, handing her a plate. She was so hungry that the flowers left her mind, and she grabbed two large slices for herself. She took a bite and moaned. "Oh, _that_ is good. Wanna eat on the couch? It should be more comfortable."

He chuckled and followed her to the living room. "I haven't forgotten your third order. A massage to help you fully relax." So he was ignoring the "O" word. Good, it would help her save face. "But first, order numbers one and two," he said as they sat down, and he handed her a bottle of beer.

She tucked her legs underneath her on the couch, picking up a pepperoni that tried to escape off the pizza and popping it into her mouth. She licked the grease off her thumb as she noticed Walt reach into a coat pocket to grab a handkerchief and neatly wipe his mouth. She suddenly felt self-conscience in her tank top, loose sweat pants, and undone hair. He caught her looking at him and raised an eyebrow. She sighed. "I feel like I should apologize."

"For?" he asked once he finished what was in his mouth.

"Being in a bad mood, being a mess, for being..." she trailed off. She moved one hand in a circle, hoping it will help her find the right word. "Insufficient?"

He rolled his eyes. "I assure you, Darling, you're doing fine." He took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. He swallowed and continued. "I never really understood that part of dating."

"What part?"

"Well, it is always important to put your best foot forward." As if to demonstrate, he checks the cuffs of his jacket and straightens the lapels like they weren't straight already. "But for a life partner, I would think you would _like_ to see those messy moments everyone has."

She nodded. Would she have been with James if she saw some of his "messy" moments? Hell, maybe she had seen them and ignored them, in the name of young love. She took another bite of pizza and chased it with a sip of beer. She smiled at Walt. "What about your messy bits?"

He paused and looked away. She had noticed that sometimes he seemed to be a thousand miles away. When he looked back, he had a smile on his face, but it seems forced. "If you knew my messy bits, my dear, you would throw me out on the street and never speak to me again." His tone was light, almost joking, but for a split second, Barbara believed him. Walter Strickler, high school teacher, history nerd, was saying that he had a horrible dark secret he was keeping from her. She gave him a look, and he cleared his throat and looked away.

"Well, I will be patient and wait for you to show those messy bits," she said, reaching over and stealing a pepperoni off of his pizza. "Just give me that massage you promised me first, so that when I throw you out, at least my back won't hurt as much."

He snorted and smiled. "Doctor's orders."

* * *

Once they have their fill of pizza (Barbara is a little ashamed to have eaten half the large pie herself, but she had to skip lunch, so screw it), Walt collected the plates and cleaned them. Barbara stayed on the couch on his insistence, finishing her beer. Before she can ask for another one, Walt is bringing her a second bottle, somehow managing to open it with his bare hands. She sometimes forgot how much stronger he was than he looked. While she enjoyed her beverage, Walt took off his jacket and hung it on a dining room chair. He rolled up his sleeves and joined her on the couch, holding onto a vial of something in one hand. Maybe its the beer talking, but she had a silly thought and started giggling. He raised an eyebrow as he took her right hand and gave it a light kiss.

"I think this is the most skin you have shown me," she explained, running a fingertip down one hairy forearm. He grinned, and Barbara noticed his ears going slightly pink. He reached over to brush his fingers on a bare shoulder lightly. "States the lady with exposed shoulders and clavicles."

She gasped playfully and covered a cheek in mock horror. "The scandal!"

"The shame!" he gasped.

"The embarrassment!"

"The disgrace!" Walt chuckled, leaning in to kiss her on an offending collarbone. He trailed more kisses up her throat and nipped at her ear before whispering. "Do you know what is truly salacious, my dear?"

She felt a blush on her face and bit her lower lip while smiling. "What is that?"

He gave her a deep kiss, leaning forward, making her lean back. One hand grabbed her beer to place it on the coffee table while the other hand helped to lower her unto the couch by wrapping around the back of her head. She uncrossed her legs and wrapped them lightly around him without thinking as she became horizontal. He started to sit back up, and she huffed in disappointment until he grabbed an ankle. He quickly lifted her leg, causing the loose pants leg to flop down. His eyebrows shot up comically as he inspected the newly bared skin. "Naked ankles," he purred in a husky voice, and she absolutely lost it and laughed loud and long as he planted noisy kisses on her ankle and the top of her foot.

When she had calmed down, she watched as he placed her foot on his shoulder and uncorked the vial to pour some oil in one hand. She leaned her head to one side. "What is that?"

"It's like tiger balm, but stronger," he explained, mouth still set in a smile. He handed her the vial so she could take a sniff. It reminded her of cinnamon. "You will have to let me know if it's too intense," he said as she handed the vial back.

He rubbed his hands together to spread the oil and warm it. He set her foot level with his chest, gliding one hand up to her calf muscle. His right thumb worked into the ball of her foot while the fingers of his left hand massaged her calf. She sighed as the oil started to tingle a little and started to burn lightly, not in an unpleasant way. He worked for a few minutes, finding and kneading several knots in her leg. Once he was satisfied, he had her switch legs and started on the left.

"You're good at that," she murmured and saw that his smile got bigger. She reached for her beer and took some small sips. She moved her shoulders to get comfortable and cringed as her back protested. She saw his smile become strained. "Walt, if you're not feeling well, you don't have to do this."

"Nonsense," he just replied. He gave her a light kiss on the ankle when he was done and placed both legs across his lap. She stretched her toes and legs and enjoyed the loosened muscles. "I have a feeling I will feel better once you do."

"Are you saying you are having sympathy pains on my behalf?" asked Barbara.

Walt smirked. "Something to that effect, my dear," He reached out for her bottle, and she down the last bit in one gulp. He took it to the kitchen. "Now, your back, my Darling."

She rolled over on the couch while he took the bottles to the recycle. She curled her legs so that she could kick her feet in the air playfully while he came back. He sat on the edge next to her with the vial. He reached for her glasses, and she handed them to him. He cleaned them before putting them on the table.

"Let me see," he said. He placed an open palm on her back and rubbed upwards towards her neck. He stopped where her neck met her shoulders, where she had asked him to rub before. "Right here," he guessed. The hand traveled back down to her lower back, which always hurt after a long shift. "Here," he guessed again. And finally, his hand came to rest behind her shoulder blades, the spot that was currently throbbing with her heartbeat. "And here," he said.

She sighed and suppressed a shudder. Her back had always been so sensitive, and even with the pain, his light touch was turning her on. She nodded. "I think I may need a pain pill if this doesn't work. It's killing me."

"We'll see what I can accomplish," he stated as he poured more oil into his hands.

He lifted her tank top to expose most of her back, and Barbara felt herself blush when she realized that he now knew she was not wearing a bra. If he minded, he did not comment. He started on her lower back, pushing his thumbs below the waistband of her sweat pants and rubbing in small circles. He worked his way up her spine, pausing at any knots. The oil started to burn, and the heat made her muscles loosen even more.

He pressed down with open palms and started rubbing outwards from her spine to her sides. She grimaced when she felt the ring he wore rubbing on her skin. She had never liked the ugly thing, and the thought of it on her skin creeped her out. "Hey Walt, don't you want to take off your ring? Don't want it to get oily." Yeah, that sounded good. She wasn't calling it spooky.

"I can't, I'm afraid," he simply said. "According to family legend, if I take it off, a demon appears and takes off my head. Just ask Uncle George."

"Did Uncle George see a demon?"

"No one knows, he couldn't tell us. He was found without his head."

She snickered but didn't push him to take it off.

When he was satisfied with her lower back, he moved to her neck. He lifted her hair and, after thinking for a few seconds, leaned down to plant soft kisses on her neck. She shuddered, moaned, and closed her eyes. He worked his thumbs into tight neck muscles, working them loose. The air was thick with the smell of cinnamon, and the heat from the oil felt divine. 

He worked down her spine, letting his thumbs stray under the straps of her tank top. He reached the spot that hurt the most, and his touch got lighter as he tried to massage the pain away. Barbara hissed, the muscles were just not relaxing in the same way that the rest of her back had. She tried to roll her shoulders to ease her discomfort without much luck.

"Hrm," he hummed. "Being stubborn, are they?" he murmured in that warm tone that she loved so much as he continued to make circles over her back with an open palm. She sighed. "Yeah, it looks like I'm taking that pain pill after all."

"Maybe not," he stated, and his palm stopped over her shoulder blades. "I think I know a way to make it go away."

"Oh, what is th-ACK!" Her question was cut off as he pushed his palm into her back in a swift, smooth motion, making her back crack violently. Barbara buried her head in the couch to silence a wail while she was dimly aware of Walt hissing above her. It must have been bad if he could hear the crack. She took a couple of deep breaths. Her back was still throbbing, but the pain was finally disappearing with every heartbeat. She rolled her shoulders and was relieved to feel the hurt finally leaving the spot.

"Warn a girl next time you do that," she said, not unkindly. She couldn't be mad at him if it worked.

"Can't allow you to brace before I do, would make it hurt more," he explained, moving her tank top down. She was dimly aware of him leaving her side and then heard him washing his hands in the sink.

She stretched like a cat on the couch and then rolled over so she was facing the back of it. She was full, she had a buzz, and her muscles were not the tight balls of pain they were before. She was content. Walt came back and laid on the couch with her. It was a small space, but that only meant that he was pressed tightly against her, his left arm a comfortable pillow, his right hand resting on her hip.

They stayed like that for several minutes, just enjoying each other's company. Barbara would have fallen asleep expect Walt murmured something in her ear. 

"Would you like to know a messy bit?"

It kind of shocked her to hear him say it, considering he was just joking that she would throw him out if he revealed any secrets to her, but what would it mean for their relationship if she said she didn't want to hear his secrets? She ran her hands up his arms so that she could lace her fingers with his. "Yes, I would," she finally answered.

"Sex... has never been an activity I enjoyed, really," he explained. He buried his nose in her hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. "But with you, it has been different. I... I care for you. Very much to my astonishment. I needed to wait to make sure it was something you desired and so that you know that I craved more than... just physical affection from you."

Walt wrapped her in a fierce hug. She felt a small flush of shame. Joking about sex without knowing how he thought about it. "Walt, I know that... well, you haven't seemed interested in sex... I don't want to... well, not _force_ you, but I don't..." She covered her face in embarrassment, glad that her back was to him, and he couldn't see her blush. "Really, the pizza and the beer and the massage were _wonderful_ and I didn't mean to make you feel _obligated_ to do-"

"There is no obligation, Darling," he interrupted her rambling and loosened the hug. "I'm just trying to inform you; you don't have to fret about order number 4."

Oh, hell, he remembered.

Her heart rate sped up, and the blush deepened until she was sure Walt could feel the heat coming off her face. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes," he said while tracing kisses down her neck. "Think of it as the deluxe care package."

She snorted. She moaned, however, when one of Walt's hands trailed up her spine under the tank top. "Does it still hurt?" he asked.

"No, it just has always been really sensitive," she explained. She felt him smile against her shoulder and realized that she just gave him some leverage he didn't have before. She tried to wiggle away to get some space from him but was trapped on the couch.

His touch became light and teasing, tracing her shoulder blades and ribs with fingertips. She sighed and squirmed under his caress.

She felt him get up from the couch, and before she could turn around and ask what was wrong, he was picking her up into the air in bridal style. She gasped and laughed and then gave him a deep kiss. He leaned down to pick up her glasses and then tried to navigate the living room without breaking the kiss but ended up hitting the stair railing with his hip. Barbara hissed as she felt a twinge of pain in her side. He finally broke the kiss as he made it up the stairs. "Looks like I'm the one having sympathy pains now," she joked, but he just looked worried.

She was kissing along his jaw as they made their way to the second floor. Barbara made a vague motion to her bedroom door, and he put her down to open it. They continued kissing as Barbara closed it behind her. He tried to hop on one foot to remove a shoe, and they both giggled as he refused to let his lips leave hers. Shoes removed, he pulled her to the side of the bed, and they stayed like that for a few moments, kissing.

She tugged at his sweater and untucked it and allowed her hands to roam up his chest. He moaned in response, but before she could get the garment off of him, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands out. She made a sound of disappointment before he put one finger to her lips.

"Let me..." he trailed off. She hadn't turned on the lights, but she could still see a blush on his cheeks and that his ears had turned pink. He held her hands so that they were flat on his still-covered chest. "Let me do this for you, Darling," he drawled as he placed her glasses on the nightstand. She blinked when she realized what he was asking.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Walt, I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do."

"Oh, but I do want to do this," he replied, and he was pulling her into a hug so that his hands could roam on the bare skin of her back. She groaned, and her hands went up to his scalp to tug on his hair. "I yearn to do this for you, Barbara. If you let me."

She blushed. She didn't know how to feel about his request. Receiving pleasure without giving any in return just felt... _wrong_ somehow. She considered it for a moment as his hands continued making light circles on her back. Oh, it was so hard to think when he was doing _that_.

She buried her face in his throat but nodded. "Alright," she said. "But you have to promise to let me return the favor soon."

"Consider it promised," he murmured. He cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head back so he could kiss her. He turned them so that the back of her knees hit the bed, and she sat down. Somehow he kept up with her rapid descent and held his lips on hers as she laid down on the bed.

He pulled at the bottom of the tank top, and Barbara lifted her arms so that he could get it over her head. It was dark in her bedroom, but she still crossed her arms in front of her chest while he wrestled her sweats off of her legs. He leaned back and chuckled. "Feeling shy?"

"Sorry, it's been a while for me," she said. Not to mention her being nearly naked while he was almost fully clothed was a little unnerving to her. He settled on top of her with a thigh between her legs. He went back to kisses and light strokes, and after several minutes Barbara sighed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

He was gentle as his hands roamed over her chest and stomach. One hand cupped a breast, and a thumb ran over a rock-hard nipple. She sighed into Walt's mouth and arched her back. He took the opportunity to run a palm over her lower back, and the sigh turned into a groan.

His hands ghosted over her hips, and his right hand slipped into her panties. He made a noise that sounded almost like a growl as he recognized just how wet and ready she was. She blushed. "Told you my back was sensitive," she whispered into his ear. He chuckled.

His fingers lightly played with her outer lips, and when his fingers were wet enough, he slipped his middle two fingers inside her. She moaned at the intrusion but pulled him closer. He started a slow rhythm of pumping his fingers in and out.

For someone who said they didn't enjoy sex, Barbara couldn't complain about his technique. He was gentle but firm, and Barbara could feel an orgasm slowly building between her legs. As the muscles in her stomach and thighs started to clench, she wrapped her legs around his hips and instinctively pulled him closer.

"Fu-fuck, Walt," she moaned. Her hands traveled up his neck into his hair, and she bit her lip to keep herself from cursing further. He dropped his mouth to a collarbone to bite down.

"What do you need, Barbara?" he panted into her ear, and oh Lord, if he kept his voice in that low rumble, she was going to rip his clothes off, promise or no. Her hand flew down between her legs, and he understood. His left hand followed hers, and with fingers spread on her belly, his thumb rubbed her swollen clit. Her body jolted like it had been struck by lightning, and when she curled her body tighter in itself, she pulled him with her.

She was moaning loudly in his ear, but she was beyond the point of caring. There was only the pleasure happening between her legs and the voice breathing in her ear.

"That's it, Darling, let go, let me make you feel divine."

The pressure that had been building finally released, and she let out a long hiss of pleasure, a long drawn out "Yessss." He cooed in her ear while she recovered. When she finally let him go, he leaned down and gave her breastbone a slow lick, tasting the salty sweat that was there. She panted for a few minutes, letting her heart slow down before speaking.

"Walt."

"Hm?"

"Walt."

"Yes?"

"That was..."

"Yessss?" His grin was broad in the dark, and he looked like the cat that caught the canary and still had feathers on its mouth.

"Oh, I have to have another bad day soon, if it means you that again."

He chuckled and grabbed her blanket to cover her up. He had asked to please her and to get nothing in return, but she was still surprised that he was leaving without getting, well, _anything_ in return. "Walt, are you sure you want to go?"

"Yes, my dear, I do," he replied as he kissed her on the forehead. "You have had a long day, and I have school in the morning and a dentist appointment tomorrow afternoon." He kissed her on the lips one last time before grabbing his shoes. "I will see myself out."

She stretched and then burrowed into the sheets. Her eyelids were already getting heavy. "Are you sure?" she asked again, still wanting to make sure that his no strings attached meant there wasn't a string somewhere that she couldn't see. He just chortled again.

"I'm sure," he responded. He gave her another kiss, deeper this time. "Thank you for showing me a messy bit."

She laughed. "And thank you for telling me about a messy bit."

He got up to leave, and Barbara let herself drift to sleep. She was full, she was relaxed, and she was content.

Most of all, she felt loved. And wasn't that something she would have to unpack soon?

**Author's Note:**

> The dress that Barbara mentions buying in this fic turns out to be the blue one she wears in The Festival of Nauna, so Walter does get to see it eventually.
> 
> Purple hyacinths mean "I am sorry" and "Please forgive me." Just trying to show that Walt does feel remorse for dragging Barbara into the whole Angor Rot mess.
> 
> This is taking place right before the episode It's About Time, so Barbara doesn't get to return the favor until much later. I'll leave it up to your imagination of how Walt deals with the blue balls of death. >:]
> 
> I'm on Tumblr! I will try to keep updates and WIPs there so you can see what I'm up to. Drop an ask if you like.
> 
> https://nightrosebud.tumblr.com/


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